


Little More Than a Winter Coat

by dapatty



Category: Empires
Genre: Angst, Animal Transformation, Drug Use, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapatty/pseuds/dapatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean can turn into a leopard at will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little More Than a Winter Coat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [no_tags](http://no-tags.dreamwidth.org/). I had a romp writing it. Thanks to [ermengarde](ao3.org/users/ermengarde) and [bloodmeridians](bloodmeridians.livejournal.com) for cheerleading and to [s0ckpupp3t](ao3.org/users/s0ckpupp3t) for the beta. ♥ ♥ ♥

Really, it should have been more obvious that turning into a leopard was just a thing that Sean could do. After all, he liked fingers in his hair, had a tendency to preen at most people and then to be completely aloof when writing. Not to mention, Sean as a roommate was kind of like having a pet cat. Sometimes, Tom forgot Sean was even there and others he’d be practically in Tom’s lap and pawing at his guitar.

Tom couldn’t help but be surprised though when he found out, stumbling in out of the cold Chicago night, practically tripping over himself to get his boots off--he shouldn’t have had that last whisky or maybe that last bowl. Max laughed at him when he ordered it, but Tom drank it anyway, still tingling and buzzed and light from the pot back at Mike’s apartment. He could swear he could practically see his breath in the hallway that had nothing to do with his lingering high. The floor cold even through his thick socks. 

“Fuck,” Tom swore. “Is the heat out _again_? Sean? You better not have stolen my comforter.” He called, swaying slightly as he pointed an accusing finger at Sean’s bedroom door down the hall.

The only answer he gets in a resounding thump from Tom’s bedroom. The fuck? Was Sean in _his_ bed? Tom had a better mattress, though, and a down comforter _and_ a wool blanket—scratchy as hell, but deliciously warm, so maybe Tom couldn’t blame him. They’d man-cuddled for warmth when the heat had been out before. 

Tom used the wall to support himself, keeping his coat on and hating that he’d already taken his boots off, and made his way to the kitchen. He filled a glass with tap water and downed it, refilled it, taking a couple pain relievers with the last gulp, just on spec to ward off the impending hangover. Leaving his glass on the counter, he stumbled to his room. The lamp on the side table revealed a Sean-shaped lump in his bed, burrowed so deep into the covers that not even his dirty blonde hair stuck out. 

“Dude, you’re gonna have to scoot over and share the covers, asshole.” Tom peeled off his jacket and outer flannel, getting tangled in his scarf and cursing its existence. Sean chortled from his nest of covers.   
“Laugh it up,” Tom muttered, briefly entertaining the thought of sleeping in his jeans, then shimmying out of them. He hated waking up in them. Felt all tangled up and off-kilter and filthy, even if it was warmer.

He practically dove under the covers, quickly tucking them under his feet and around his neck and sticking his hands under Sean’s back, but wait. That was... _fur_. Was Sean wearing a fur coat? Sean made a noise deep in his throat.

“The hell?” Tom muttered squinting at Sean’s back, looking at the white, spot-speckled fur that moved in time with Sean’s breathing. Tom looked where the back of Sean’s head should have been and holy shit, that was, uh, cat-shaped. Like, large, predatory-cat-shaped and holy fuck he was in bed with a leopard.

Tom scrambled, getting tangled in the covers and falling out of bed and landing on his ass with an “Umph” in an undignified heap.

The cat swiveled its head around, blue eyes studying Tom with an expression almost like Sean’s ‘what the fuck’ face, but no. Maybe it had eaten Sean and grown his facial expressions. Maybe it was going to eat Tom. Maybe this wasn’t actually happening. Maybe Tom should just be glad he hadn’t pissed himself or something.

“Holy shit.” Tom tried to leverage himself up but couldn’t, bedsheet tangled around his bare legs.

The cat yawned and stretched, then to Tom’s complete horror, _started to climb off the bed._ And it was _giant_. Giant and very real and slowly approaching Tom like it was trying not to scare him, which was ridiculous. Those were crazy thoughts right there. Tom was afraid that he’d had some sort of psychotic break. Or maybe he should never drink or smoke pot again. Certainly not in the same evening. Maybe moderately, on separate nights. Supervised. _Why was he even thinking about drugs at a time like this? Why didn’t he have an exotic animal handler on speed dial? What was wrong with his life?_

The cat—no, leopard, Tom was pretty sure this was a snow fucking leopard - was practically in Tom’s lap now. It nudged at Tom’s arm, pushing Tom toward the bed. 

Tom held fast to the bed sheet like that could protect him. 

The leopard sat down on its haunches and sighed deeply.   
“Okay, so. Let’s say that I’m not tripping my balls off and didn’t hit my head at Mike’s and am in fact at home, in my apartment, in my own room, and a snow leopard is looking at me like I’m a moron. Let’s say that I accept that as a real thing that is happening. Right?” Tom asked.

The leopard nodded. 

“ _Shit._ Tripping balls. Seriously. Okay. Did you just _nod_?” Tom asked.

The leopard nodded again and tried to push Tom toward the bed.

“Yes, it’s cold as fuck and yes I should be in blankets and not on the floor, shut up.” He laughed a tiny bit hysterically, and went on. “S-shut up, _leopard_. Don’t mother hen me like--Wait. Sean? Sean, is that you?” Tom couldn’t believe he was actually asking a possibly dangerous creature questions like it was one of Tom’s best friends and bandmate. 

To his complete and utter surprise, the leopard nodded and practically preened at Tom, bumping Tom with his head like a housecat wanting attention. 

“You’re… you’re Sean, and you can understand me, and you’re definitely not going to eat my face? Buh. But. Prove it. Blink four times.” That was not the most coherent prove-you’re-my-friend challenge he could have come up with, but these had to be some kind of extenuating circumstances. 

The leopard yawned, displaying some fearsome fucking teeth, then looked at Tom and blinked. Four times.

“Holy shit.” Tom blinked and cautiously reached up to place his hands on Sean’s head, giving a careful pet. Sean started to purr. 

“Okay, that’s kind of cool.” Tom admitted. 

Sean bumped him with his head again and then carefully took Tom’s t shirt in his teeth and gave a gentle tug.

“Yes. We can totally cuddle for warmth because the floor is cold and I’m still a little wasted and then maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?” 

Sean let Tom’s shirt go and nodded. Tom nodded back and finally managed to untangle himself from the sheet and find enough leverage to get himself onto the bed, dragging the covers back with him. He lifted the blankets when Sean walked around the bed and then hopped in.

“This is a little weird,” Tom mumbled, tucking his cold hands back under Sean. Sean chuffed.

******

When Tom woke in the morning, Sean was asleep in his bed, curled around Tom, naked. Which was only a little awkward. It was a lot less awkward than finding a fucking leopard in your bed. Sean woke up with a start and rolled onto his back.

Tom squinted at the mid-morning light then at Sean. Sean looked perfectly normal, like he always did, just with impressive bed head and sleep in the corner of his eye. 

“Morning,” Sean’s voice still rough with disuse.

“Morning,” Tom echoed and stuck his hand out of the covers. “So the heat’s still broken.”

“Seems to be.” Sean agreed.

“Sucks to be you,” Tom allowed. “I don’t remember tripping over any of your clothes last night.”

“You were kind of out of it,” Sean said.

“Dude, if you’re hoping to convince me that I was stoned enough to imagine you were a goddamn leopard, I’m shoving your naked ass out of this bed.” Tom warned. “I had been considering letting you use the bedsheet, but.” Tom shrugged, trying for nonchalance and idle threats, but he could feel the start of anger in his belly. How could Sean keep something like this from him? They were best friends, or so Tom thought. They shared an apartment and had a grocery list and watched out for each other. 

Tom was pretty sure that Sean should have confessed this sometime before now, passed it off as a joke at least. Sean knew quite a few of Tom’s secrets, fears easier shared in the dark over a beer. Things he hadn’t even told Danielle--and they’d been dating almost 11 years. Sean hadn’t trusted him with this, couldn’t before now, if Sean would just explain now. 

“So,” Tom started and waited. Sean would start talking. It’s just what Sean did. You couldn’t get him to shut up if you gave him the tiniest of openings. Tom wouldn’t be mad about this. Clearly, someone hurt Sean over this. Sean only keeps things to himself if they’ve deeply wounded him, cut him to the core if he can’t figure out how to put it into lyrics. 

“I-- I was cold. So I changed.” Sean confessed and stopped, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

“So. You can do it when you want. So it’s not like some sort of werewolfy shit?” Tom asked. 

“No, it’s just something my family can do.” Sean confessed and then he was off, words pouring out. “Or well, it’s from my mom’s side of the family. And I’ve been able to as long as I can remember and just -- yeah. I didn’t tell you because it’s some kind of unbelievable shit, right? Like, how do you tell anyone something like this? There’s no good time to bring it up. And if you do, there’s a good chance they’ll just call you a liar and then never want to see you again. Because being some sort of inexplicable supernatural creature is a lie you must be telling because you don’t want to move in together. Not everyone can be as awesome as my roommate in college. And then I had my own apartment, and then I lived at home for a little while. And like, it just didn’t seem like anything I should mention, exactly.” Sean wound himself down and shrugged, like the whole thing wasn’t a big deal. Like he hadn’t been somehow denying a part of himself. 

Tom was floored. How had he missed this? He felt like kind of an asshole, but he didn’t know if he could say all that to Sean. 

“Dude,” Tom started.

“Yeah,” Sean let out a puff of air like Tom didn’t have to say anything. Like they were going to drop it and just let it be this cloud of weird between the two of them. Fuck that. Tom didn’t have that kind of band anymore. He didn’t have those kinds of adult relationships. So he said the only thing he could think to say.

“This explains a lot about your mom,” Tom said, hoping the joke could get Sean’s attention, clear some of the air.

Sean laughed, loud and surprised, looking at Tom fondly. “Hey my mom is full of that Von Vleet charm, man. You love my mom.”

“Yeah, that Von Vleet charm is unstoppable like that,” Tom said wryly. “We should get up and make coffee and then maybe find our landlord and kill him and use him as firewood.”

“That sounds really involved, man.” Sean said, he was still smiling though. Maybe he got what Tom was trying to say. Maybe he heard that Tom was totally okay with Sean no matter what, even if he could already hear the bitching Max was going to do about Sean shedding all over the van. 

“I’ll loan you a pair of pajama pants?” Tom offered. 

“You sure know how to make a dude feel special,” Sean batted his eyelashes.

“You aren’t the only one with charm,” Tom smirked back. 

“Don’t forget the smell of your feet. It shouldn’t be discounted from your charm,” Sean smiled sweetly. 

“Harsh,” Tom pouted. “Steegs never complains.”

“That’s because she is a woman of extraordinary character, made of far tougher stuff than the rest of us,” Sean said sagely. 

It was true. Tom’s girlfriend was amazing and more than a little badass. “Hey, do she and Max know?” Tom asked quietly. 

“Nah,” Sean answered. 

“You should tell them. Or at least tell Max. He’s always complaining about being cold in the van. You could use your top-notch living fur blanket skills. He’d totally think it was cool. Like you’re a superhero or something.”

Sean shrugged, face considering.

“Thanks for making sure I didn’t freeze to death last night, by the way. Even though, next time, like, leave a note in the kitchen or something.” Tom said giving Sean’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Yeah. A note saying, ‘Hey, our heat’s out, so I’ll be a giant cat in your bed. No worries.’ Sure, man, I’ll remember that.” Sean rolled his eyes. “I was really just trying to get warm enough to feel my toes. I woke up shivering and figured stealing all your blankets would be a dick move. You should have seen your face. If I could have laughed, I would have.”

“I admit to maybe being surprised. Nothing more.”

“Surprised. Right,” Sean chuckled, then sighed. “Would you be surprised again if I put the fur back on?”

“No,” Tom answered slowly, a little worried that there was gonna be some nightmarish horror-movie morphing scene happening in his bed, but ready to handle it for Sean’s sake. “It’d be kinda cool. Besides, one of us should be warm.”

“Thanks,” Sean said, smiling. Tom smiled back and then yawned widely, blinking for a moment. When he opened his eyes, Sean as a leopard was staring at him.

“Just like that. You know, somewhere, Pete Wentz is supremely jealous and has no idea why,” Tom said. Sean looked like he wanted to laugh, sides shaking with it. 

Yeah, Tom figured. They’d be okay.


End file.
